Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or anything Hobbit or LOTR related.
Beta: Kitsune! Thanks a bunch for all your hard work!
Chapter 1
His mind was being torn apart. So many confusing memories were flashing behind his eyes. The pain only made the confusion worse and for a brief time he had no idea who he was. Used to be? Were all these memories his? Were they someone else's? If so, how did he see them? Why were these thoughts coursing through his mind?
Madara charging him with a battle cry.
Sitting on his bench and looking out over Hobbitton.
Laughing at Tobirama's sour face. His brother had just found him after he ran out on his paperwork.
Watching his mother fight a Warg with only a frying pan, while standing guard before him.
Dying while fighting the man who had been his best friend, while his wife was sealing a Biju away.
Coming back to life, and dying again.
He opened his eyes, sat up with a start and threw up.
It took him a few seconds to get his erratic breathing and his equally frantic heartbeat back under control.
He was on the verge of a panic attack.
He'd never had a panic attack before… Wait, yes he had. He'd had them regularly after his parents had died during the Fell winter.
No, no wait… Hashirama had never had a panic attack. His brothers and his parents had one by one been laid before him, dead on the battle field, until only one brother remained.
But Bilbo… Bilbo knew what panic attacks were…
Wait…
How could he remember being both?
Why did he remember being both?
Hashirama had died, twice, at least! Maybe even three times? But… Bilbo hadn't… right?
He blinked his eyes and forced them to focus. He looked around; everything was still dark. Either he was suddenly blind or he was in a very dark space.
Bilbo's panic clawed at his throat. Hashirama tried to break through it and keep calm.
What was the most recent thing he/they could remember? It took him/them a while, his killer headache not helping, but… Bilbo's memories felt… more recent?
Somehow?
He'd been on a quest with dwarves, and… all he'd really done was try not to die, and keep the dwarves alive as well.
Gandalf... Gandalf had come and had thrown his whole life upside down, and then he'd been travelling to get over the Misty Mountains.
Gandalf was a wizard, with genuine magic, and Bilbo (that was who he was now, right?) was off to fight a dragon.
A dragon.
A huge, fire breathing dragon…
Even Hashirama had trouble keeping calm at that, though he was equally as apprehensive as he was excited.
But what was the last thing he/they could remember?
They had settled down for the night? After stumbling across those Stone giants?
He remembered now – they fallen through the floor of the cave!
Goblins had been everywhere and he had fallen.
Down, down, down, he'd gone.
He must have hit the floor of wherever he was pretty hard he thought as he rubbed at his head.
A sharp pain shot through his brain, and he moaned.
He couldn't see his hand, but both his scalp and fingers felt sticky now.
Blood.
Obviously he was hurt.
He probably landed head first…
Damn.
"Hello?"
His voice was barely audible yet it echoed through the space. He still couldn't see a thing.
If anyone else was here with him, they should have heard that. Right? Couldn't be a bad idea to try again, right?
"Hello? Anyone here?"
No answer.
Did he dare try again? There could be goblins around… So, did he dare? Would he risk it?
Did he have a choice?
If he didn't find his company again (and was it really his? His, as in, he was a part of it? Wasn't that the opposite of what he'd told Bofur? Hadn't he been convinced he'd never be a part of them?), then he was completely alone, and farther from home than he'd ever been.
He had no idea which way to go, if there even was a way to go, except up?
If he didn't find the company, would they come look for him? Would they? Some might want to, but he didn't remember Bilbo making many friends among them. Would they see it as a waste of time and continue on?
He didn't want to think it, but... probably.
It wasn't a nice thought and it only made his/their panic harder to fight, but it felt... honest? With what he could remember… Yes, it was probably more honest than anything else he tried to convince himself to believe.
But it didn't help in keeping a level head.
Not at all...
He was struggling so hard to breath, he barely registered he was actually suffocating.
The ground under his feet (his large and hairy feet, and wasn't that both astonishing and calming at the same time?) shook violently.
Reflex made him brace himself, short of breath though he was. Nothing could prepare him for the branches that burst out of the rock.
He finally took a breath in shock.
The branches wrapped around him and took him with them.
Up. They kept getting larger, punching what had to be boulders out of the way.
Rubble started falling down and he pressed himself closer to the big tree that was growing before his eyes. It had to be huge by now but he still couldn't see much of anything. Suddenly more stuff (rocks and earth and dirt and who knew what else) came falling down, some hitting him on their way, and then there was light.
He had to blink repeatedly while the tree grew higher, taking him up with it.
It wasn't sunlight, but light from fires. Torchlight, in a very big open space. He could see rudimentary build platforms and lots of goblins.
Lots and lots of goblins…
Oh dear.
They really were hideous to look at. Boils and sores and just really ugly in general. He had seen them before his fall, but he hadn't had time to really look at them in all the chaos.
They shrieked and pointed primitive looking weapons at the tree. The weapons looked very home-made to him now that he'd seen the dwarves' weapons and he could remember the ones shinobi used. He could actually compare them.
The dwarves are running on the platforms with goblins in pursuit, or at least they were. Everyone seemed to have stopped whatever they were doing (fighting and running in this case) to watch the giant tree grow out of the cave floor.
"Bofur!" He yelled down as he recognised the dwarf.
The hat wearing dwarf looked up at him with wide eyes. "That's Bilbo! What are you doing up there?!"
"Into the tree!" Gandalf yelled out of nowhere as he jumped and grabbed onto one of the moving branches.
The dwarves quickly followed his example, yelping all the way and screaming in distress. The goblins screeched in protest and tried to climb into the tree as well, only for the branches to violently lash out and smash them into the cave wall or push them off the platforms.
"What is this?!" Dwalin yelled out.
"Gandalf?! What magic is this?" Thorin snarled at the wizard.
Gandalf didn't reply, but shot a frown the hobbit's way.
Bilbo bit his lip in worry. He was fairly certain that this had something to do with him – Hashirama had been known for his Mokuton after all – but, the problem was, he wasn't aware he was doing anything. Well, obviously he could see something was going on, but as Hashirama, he had needed chakra and hand signs and an actual jutsu… He hadn't done any of that now. He wasn't even sure chakra could be used in this world.
The tree grew and grew and burst through the ceiling of the cave, through layers and layers of rock. It seemed to take hours, until a burst of daylight nearly blinded them all.
They were finally back outside.
The tree kept growing for a little longer and then stopped. It did keep moving around, as it gently lowered its parts where the company was clinging to it.
Bilbo was the last to gently be set down, his feet finally back on the ground.
"Bilbo! What happened to you?! And where did-"
Bofur yelled at him in worry, gently grasping his shoulders, and Bilbo had to fight to stay conscious.
"Down, down, down I fell." He illustrated with his hand.
"Let me take a look at your head laddie." Oin grunted as he walked closer.
"I'm fine, I'm fine." He tried to dismiss them
"Fine? Your face is covered in blood!" Kili exclaimed in shock.
He waved their worries away.
"And where did that tree come from? Did you magic it, Gandalf?" Gloin butted in.
A Warg howled.
"That sounds very close." Bilbo absent-mindedly noted.
"Run!" Gandalf yelled at them.
The wizard's long legs gave him quite the advantage over the others. Bilbo and the dwarves had to work hard to keep up. Again.
They sure did a lot of running on this quest.
He should be more worried. Whether he was Bilbo or Hashirama, or both, he should be really worried right now.
But he wasn't.
Whatever was happening, it didn't feel real.
He probably had a concussion. That could explain it, especially since he still had a headache.
"Into the trees!" Gandalf yelled again.
Bilbo followed, and was the last one to reach the trees. Unlike the others he didn't even have to jump up to reach the lowest branches. The branches actually moved to reach down so he could climb on, and then moved higher again to help him climb up.
Whatever this new power was, it was coming quite in handy.
A pack of wargs, with orc riders snarled at them from on the ground.
Brilliant, now they were trapped in the trees, and Gandalf was setting them on fire.
Was he really throwing down burning pine cones? The dwarves yelled enthusiastically as they threw some down as well, some even hitting the wargs.
Bilbo had difficulty focusing. He shook his head sharply, in the hopes it would help.
A huge white warg approached them, and equally white orc on its back. It had deep scars all over his body and a steel weapon that was stuck into his body where his arm had once been.
He looked really dangerous, and scary.
Currently, the Orc is completely focused on Thorin, and snarling something in a strange, guttural language.
At the last bellow of their master, the wargs threw themselves onto the trees, trying to topple them.
They succeeded.
The trees fell, one onto the other. Until the last one fell and hung mostly over the cliff-side.
There was lots of screaming as they all hung on for life.
Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut, all the screaming making his headache worse. Most of the screams died down as the dwarves found their grip.
He blinked to try and will the pain away and looked around. Everyone seemed to have a somewhat stable grip on the tree. Thorin had even hoisted himself up and was standing.
Only Ori and Dori were still screaming for help.
Both were dangling under the tree, Dori holding onto a branch and Ori holding on to Dori.
Bilbo gulped. The way down was way too long; they wouldn't survive the fall.
He focused, as Hashirama once did, and willed the tree to help them.
"Stay away!" Dori screamed out as other branches reached down and winded around him and his younger brother.
Bilbo wanted to say something, maybe reassure them, but he got distracted when Thorin ran past him, sword raised, towards the white orc.
Had he gone mad? Or had Thorin also hit his head sometime in the last few hours?
The white warg intercepted Thorin's attack and threw him off balance, before it bit him.
It held Thorin in its maw, and snapped it's jaw closed. The dwarven king screamed.
The other dwarves screamed in rage, especially Dwalin, but neither of them could get a good enough grip to climb up the tree.
The warg threw Thorin away before going in for the kill. The dwarf was barely moving any more, and just moaned weakly as he hit the rock.
Bilbo wasn't aware he was moving until he had climbed up the branch he was clinging onto (or had the branch helped him up? He wasn't sure) and then he was running. Running to stand before the fallen king, in hopes of protecting him, or at least to stall long enough for the others to get here.
He reached for his little blade, only to realise it was gone. Where was-? Right, it had fallen with him in the goblin caves, and he hadn't thought to look for it when he woke up after his fall.
That had been stupid. A stupid mistake that could cost him everything now.
Damn it!
Oh, that warg was big! It was just as big if not bigger than him!
He'd seen quite a few wolves and wargs during the Fell winter, but never one as big as this one.
No, now is not the time to think back and reminisce, so he forced the memory of his mother fighting a wolf in the snow from his mind and tried to focus.
Another orc approached him, it was almost upon him and he panicked.
Tree branches burst out of the ground and skewered the orc in multiple places. He stumbled back, but still got some of its dark blood on him.
The dwarves bellowed, and Dwalin, Fili and Kili threw themselves onto the enemies.
Bilbo stayed where he was, before Thorin, as something big grabbed him from behind. He yelped, startled, and screamed as his feet left the ground.
A giant eagle was carrying him in its talons!
And then, a bit further over the cliff-side, he was abruptly dropped.
He screamed louder than before, only to land on the back of another giant bird. He had to grab fistfuls of feathers to prevent himself from falling off.
Around him, one by one, the others dwarves joined him on the back of other eagles, Gandalf as well.
He sighed in relief. And finally, on the back of the Eagle, he allowed himself to black out.
TBC.
Please let me know what you think? That would mean the world to me!